


One More Addiction

by princehadri, whytekatt



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugstuck, Humanstuck, Incest, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Shota, Sibling Incest, Underage Drug Use, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princehadri/pseuds/princehadri, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whytekatt/pseuds/whytekatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is GAMZEE MAKARA and you’ve made more MISTAKES in your life than you have DECISIONS. </p><p>But admittedly, you haven’t had a VERY LONG life just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ====>  Be the younger brother

**==== >** **Be the younger brother**

Your name is GAMZEE MAKARA and you’ve made more MISTAKES in your life than you have DECISIONS.

But admittedly, you haven’t had a VERY LONG life just yet.

You’re turning somewhere between TEN and THIRTEEN today and you count your birthdays by how many KISSES your BROTHER gives you on your FOREHEAD. It’s your FAVOURITE part of getting older.

**==== >** **Examine your presents**

No. You don’t feel like it. Kurloz is still in the middle of counting how old you are and you don’t want to interrupt him.

The metal through his lips is cold and it tickles when he gives you a final kiss on either cheek. You reach for him when he straightens back up to his full height - a good foot taller than you - but he just smiles and wags his delicately long index finger at you.

"Not right now, little mother fucker."

**==== >** **Demand more kisses**

"Why not?" You put on the best scowl that you can manage and direct it at him, a hand on either one of your hips.

It’s your birthday and you’ll get more kisses if you want to.

"You can get your kisses anytime. I thought you might want something else." He turns his back on you and starts to walk down the hallway from the living room.

**==== >** **Follow Kurloz**

You were already doing that. You just have to take two or three steps for every one of his.

The house that you live in is huge. Two stories, five bedrooms, and more “dens” than you know what to do with. But your mother had wanted a big family and your father had never argued with her.

Or so you've been told. You never got to meet her before she died. All you know about her is what Kurloz has told you. Your father refuses to even say her name in front of you. It’s why he’s nowhere to be found every year on this day.

The first few times that you remember, you were heartbroken. But now you’re thankful for the time away from him.

**==== >** **Stop zoning out**

A hard flick against your nose brings you back to the present. You must have not been paying attention to where you were going, because you’re practically standing on the back of Kurloz’s feet while he frowns at you. You've always been clumsy and kind of absent minded even on the best of days, but  _still_. Walking up the back of his heels is kind of ridiculous.

**==== >** **Apologize**

"What are you giving me, huh?"

That’s a pretty shitty apology, Gamzee. Don’t hurt yourself trying.

"I’m not giving you shit, you brat." Kurloz is smiling despite his words. He sits down on his bed with one leg crossed over his lap. He looks so casual and  _cool_. You’ve always been jealous of his looks. He’s pale compared to yourself and your father, making his cheekbones and dark eyes stand out like some sort of sculpture. And forget about how thin he is. He’s a borderline skeleton; all lean muscle and fast metabolism. Not that you know what that is.

He pats his lap and you eagerly take him up on the offer, throwing yourself enthusiastically against him.

"Oof—slow down, Gamzee."

One of his arms moves around either of your sides and he pulls his low bedside table around and in front of the two of you.

**==== > ** **Examine the table**

Forget about the table. You’re more interested in what’s  _on_  it.

Your brother’s hookah has always fascinated you. It’s up to your waist when it’s sitting on the ground and when Kurloz smokes from it, you’re hypnotized.The way that he blows half invisible rings so casually and speaks through the smoke is always fascinating to you. You always end up staring at his pierced lips.

You've lost track of how many times you've asked him if you can try and the answer has always been a silent but firm ‘no’.

But this time, as he lights it and presses the mouthpiece of one of the hoses against his lips, he gives a knowing smile. And he nods.

**==== >** **Try to smoke**

Kurloz offers you the hose after he exhales smoke from his nose, his fingertips brushing over your lips to urge you to part them.

So you do.

You do the best that you can to mimic all the times you've watched him but you inhale too deep and end up coughing. It burns your lungs and you wonder how the hell your brother can handle it.

You reach for it again but Kurloz has pulled it out of your grasp and has inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs while he just smiles at you.

**==== >** **Get some help**

How? Are you just supposed to  _ask_? That'd be a motherfucking embarrassment! You can do it yourself!

**==== >** **Get some sugar**

What?

_Oh._

There's cold metal and warm lips pressing against yours and urging them open and you're  _more_ than happy to obey.

Your lips part and your brother exhales smoke into your mouth and keeps your lips together until you kind of understand what he's going for.

**==== > ** **OBEY**

Huh? What's with the yelling? Jegus, you aren't deaf. Maybe you just want to savor the moment.

**==== >** **Fine, swallow**

That's pretty bad, too.

**==== >** **Knock that shit off**

You get the hint and swallow the smoke down into your lungs where it smoulders rather than burns. When you exhale it's in a cloud of smoke instead of the elegant rings and streams that your brother does.

It smells familiar - sweet and heady and oily and vaguely spicy - and your head is light from holding your breath.

When he thinks you've figured it out enough after a few "practice runs" (your lips are hot and your cheeks are flushed and your body is having a few other choice reactions) he gives you the hose back and you curl up around it against his chest.

"Not too much," He whispers against your ear, his hands moving gently over your hips and squeezing. "Just a taste."


	2. ====>  Be the older brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will actually pick up in part three, haha sorry.

**==== >** **Be the older brother**

Your name is KURLOZ MAKARA and some days you feel OLD beyond your YEARS. You're in your TWENTIES but that isn't IMPORTANT. You've been an ADULT for at least HALF of your entire LIFE. Your CHILDHOOD ended when your younger BROTHER was born and you've practically been a FATHER since then.

Your spend MOST of your time TRYING to NAP when your BROTHER-SON will leave you alone. Sometimes you dabble in STAGE MAKEUP and ACTING which are both things you enjoyed doing when you were in HIGH SCHOOL but haven't had much TIME for. You do a LOT more RECREATIONAL SMOKING than you used to.

Being a PARENT is EXHAUSTING.

**==== >** **Quit whining and get back to work**

_Whining?_ Your brother whines, certainly - but not yourself. You barely even  _speak_. And besides, you can't get back to work. You don't have a job. At least, not in the conventional way. Taking care of Gamzee is your fulltime job at the moment and anything else you do is done in the very little spare time that you have after you've finished the chores and while he's still in school.

**==== >** **Not THAT work, you asshole. It's his birthday, remember?**

Oh yeah.

You had almost forgotten that today was the day your  _own_  father abandoned whatever duties he had as a parent and left the two of you alone. You couldn't entirely blame him, but you did resent him, possibly even hate him, this time of year. You never had a chance to mourn but he gets to do it every year? Every  _day_?

**==== >** **FOCUS**

You shake your head and come back to right now. Gamzee is looking up at you with those bright violet eyes. It's time for his first present.

**==== >** **Give Gamzee some sugar**

You start to kiss your brother's forehead, internally counting how many little pecks you press against his face.

One, two, three ... 

It's odd; your role of both a mother and a father. Does your dad even know how old his youngest son is?

Do you?

**==== >** **Continue counting**

You would, if you could remember what number you were on! You guess you're at about ten.  Eleven, twelve, thirteen. There, that should be enough with possible excess.

Not that Gamzee ever complains about getting extra of anything.

He tries to pull you back and you have to dodge his insistent hands. If you get caught up in his arms, you'll be there all day. 

"Not right now, little mother fucker."

For as spoiled as he is, he acts like he's starved for affection.

"Why not?" 

"You can get your kisses anytime. I thought you might want something else."

**==== >** **Give him his real present**

You stopped giving him material things several years ago. They would hold his attention on average for a few hours. A few days if you were lucky. You would always get him exactly what he wanted, but...boys would be boys. And children were the most difficult of them.

But you know something that he  _does_  want. Something that he's asked you for, time and time again.

You've always tried to be the responsible adult - a  _good_  father, better than the one he was stuck being born to - and have always told him no.

The excuse  _you_  have for smoking is barely one at all. It was something you used to do with your father, when Gamzee was still young and before he gave up on both of you. It's become a habit. Soothing and familiar and a very welcome reprieve from your day to day life.

You've just never been able to justify letting your brother - your  _kid_ \- get into drugs, even if it's just one hit. But the way that he asks, eyes wide and lower lip pushed out in the perfect pout...

You can't say no forever.

**==== >** **Go to your room**

Gamzee practically runs you over as he follows you into your room, kicking you in the backs of your ankles and thudding against your back when you stop to open the door.

"What are you giving me, huh?" He's so eager and as impatient as ever.

"I’m not giving you shit, you brat." You grin at him and sit down on the side of your bed. Your brother stands before you with his confusion written clearly across his face. 

**==== >** **Get jumped**

You invite him into your lap and he knocks the breath out of your lungs with how he leaps into your embrace, all uncoordinated angles and elbows and knees. 

"Oof—slow down, Gamzee." 

It's a struggle to get your hookah over in front of the two of you with him sitting in your lap, but you manage it after a bit of maneuvering. 

**==== >** **Set up**

It's second nature to you to set things up; just not with Gamzee watching so intently. Usually he's staring at your face but today he's focused on your hands as they go about their work. If there's one part of your body that you're happy with as is, it's your hands. They serve their purpose and if they can keep your brother quiet and content, you owe them big time.

**==== >** **Inhale**

**==== >** **Exhale**

You make sure that the smoke isn't too harsh before you give your brother the hose and leave him to his own attempts at copying you.

He's awful at it. For how often he's watched you, he obviously hasn't been paying attention to the  _method_.

**==== >** **Give the poor bastard some help**

You inhale again and hold the smoke in your lungs before kissing him once more. You're bold this time and go for the boy's mouth and part his lips to exhale into him. It's just  _helping_ , you rationalize. There isn't anything  _twisted_  about it.

But you do this more than once and every time it's more of an adult kiss than simple teaching.

**==== >** **Have some self control**

_Fine._

You release him and give him the hose instead, supervising as he snuggles up against you and practically suckles at the smoke. 

"Not too much," You warn him, fingertips pressing against the hem of his shirt just above his waist and giving him a firm squeeze to get him to pay attention to you. "Just a taste."


	3. ====> Be the father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written mostly by Whytekatt.

**==== > Be the father**

FIRST OFF, you don’t go by “FATHER”.

SECONDLY, your name is NOT important. What  _is_  important is what you GO by.

You would be the ONE and ONLY mother fucker know as THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD.

You’re in the PRIME of your LIFE. Specifically, what that means is that you’re OLDER than forty but YOUNGER than sixty and getting any more SPECIFIC than that is PUSHING IT.

There’s no bastard in the WORLD that’s more of a ROCK STAR than YOU are. You mostly SING but you’ve been known to rock the mother fucking BASS GUITAR.

**==== > Tune down the ego**

That’s impossible. It isn’t ego when it’s all true, babe.

**==== >There’s more to this story than your rocking days**

But you don’t want to talk about that. In fact, you  _ignore_  that. Any other life outside of your stardom fell years ago. About twelve years ago, actually. When that little ankle-biter was born. Well, it wouldn’t have been so bad if things didn’t go terribly wrong.

**==== > Let’s do the time warp**

You really don’t want to think about it. It was hard enough to live through the first time.

**==== > Let’s do the time warp. AGAIN.**

Fine, fine.

You’re absent on this day of your son’s birth. You always are. Sure, it’s Gamzee’s birthday, but it was also the day you lost the person you were closest to: your wife. You’re pretty sure that Kurloz resents you for your abandonment, what what do you care? He wasn’t there. Sure, Kurloz lost his mother too, but he was young. If you took on another wife, he would love her just as he had loved his mother. But you? That woman had been with you for years - even before you married her. She was more than just the mother to your children; she was your best friend.

**==== > Do you need a tissue?**

_Oh, fuck off._

You glare at yourself, straightening up your suit as you exit the car and start walking over the Hallow Grounds. You only have one goal.

And you see her there in the distance.

**==== > Are you sad?**

Hardly. Your heart flutters as you get closer. Sure she’s six feet under, but you still love her with all your being.

**==== > Kneel**

"Hello." You place the flowers in your arms over her spot of rest before crossing your legs and sitting down. "I mother fucking missed you." She always hated it when you cussed, but you can hear her laugh some. It’s like everything was back to normal.

Almost.

At least here, you can forget about what happened for at least a few short hours. Besides, the boys seem to like their alone time and you’d only be in the way.


End file.
